When I Knew You by Desireé Prosapio Read Free Book Online Page A

jumped to my feet and quickly stopped the tape. I walked toward the door, fighting the sparks that went off in my head and holding my side where it ached from my sudden move. I looked through the peephole. There was Eliah's neck and chest.
    He was waving a white pharmacy bag. "Kat! It's me! Eliah. I have your meds."
    Seriously . If I didn't stop him from this nursemaid routine I was never going to get rid of him.
    I opened the door and he walked in with a spring in his step. He dropped the bag on the table and ripped it open.  
    "Pain meds and something to help you rest," he said, squinting at the bottle. "Ooooh, hydrocodone. I used that after my softball injury."
    "Thanks, Eliah. I forgot about these."
    He palmed the bottle and opened it, shaking out two pills. "Here you go."
    "I'm not really—"
    Eliah raised a long bony finger, Ichabod Crane preparing for a speech. "You need to take your meds and give your body time to recover. They let you out too early and you clearly still need to rest. It's crazy. Insurance companies want everyone out of the hospital before they are even halfway healed."
    I didn't care if I threw up on the side of his car. He was pushing this "friend" thing. "Look, Eliah, I have things to do."
    He gave me a stern look and held out the pills to me in his ginormous hand. He was never going to quit. I took the pills from him and headed to the bathroom for water, closing the door behind me. Then I tossed the pills down the drain. I never took those kinds of meds, they knocked me out and made me sick for days. I could deal with pain. I learned that in two years of self-defense classes.
    When I got back, Eliah was looking over my mostly bare bookshelf next to the stereo.  
    "Okay, all set," I said. "Guess I should get some rest."  
    He turned, his big goofy grin stretching nearly to his ears. "Right. Okay then. See you tomorrow. You've got a follow-up with the doctor at," he pulled a small notebook out of his shirt pocket. "Noon. I'll be by at 11:30."
    "Oh, um, okay." I wasn't sure if I could take any more Eliah-ness. I ushered him to the door. Behind me, I heard a loud mechanical pop. I turned around but didn't see anything.
    "See you!" said Eliah.  
    I stood against the door, hoping he wouldn't come back, listened to his heavy feet hitting every stair. Satisfied that he was gone, I went back to the stereo and hit the play button. It made a loud popping sound. It was at the end. Hadn't I stopped it? How could it be at the end?
    I hit rewind, listening to the high-speed whine for a few seconds, then hit play.
    A soft hiss came through the speakers.
    No . Tell me I hadn't accidentally erased the tape. I swore I only hit the stop button.
    The hiss continued. I rewound until I heard her voice, then fast forwarded to the point where she talked about Father Henry. The tape went from words to hiss.
    No. Please no. I ejected the tape and slammed my hand on the shelf, shaking loose a couple of books. How could I have done this? I felt sick. I lost her. Again. I lost the other Antonia, my mom, that driven woman, the one who worked in an office, dealt with professors and politicians, a woman examining the world and sketching it in long reports filled with statistical analysis. Someone who didn't need pennies to teach her how to count.
    I slammed the player closed. And where the hell were they anyway? Why hadn't Abuela called, where were the other tapes, what was I supposed to do now? I shoved the tape into my pants' pocket and wandered into my tiny spare bedroom where I kept all my climbing gear. Three rope bags were piled in the corner, along with my backpack filled with gear. I grabbed one and threw it on the bed. It was long and lumpy, looking a little like a body was sleeping there. I knelt down and fumbled with the zippered side pocket. I pulled out my spare credit card and keys.  
    I needed to get out.  
    That's when I remembered the other tape. I looked around. My jacket was on the couch.  
    Strange, I'd